


Bonded

by VeryImpressive



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Genderbending, Group Marriage, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Polyfidelity, Polygamy, Pseudo-Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryImpressive/pseuds/VeryImpressive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel Wayne hated not being able to find a solution for something, she loathed it in fact. She had wrecked her brain in an attempt to find a solution, any answer to free herself, and them, from this. She failed - and now she had to navigate the trickiest waters that she has ever faced. Jason Todd/femBruce/Dick Grayson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: AU - several characters are genderbent, violence, cursing, lemon (down the line), polygamous-forced-chemical bond, age differences, same-sex relationships. I can foresee a slight OOC problem with some of you, simply for the fact that Bruce is a female in this story and is a tad more emotional than the real one, please leave if this is something that is a deal breaker - don't waste time.
> 
> Notes: I say again, if a genderbent Bruce is a problem for you, it would be best to turn back now and not waste your time. For the readers who have chosen to stay, I promise - this is the last one I'm going to do - this plot bunny was beating the hell out of me though - I will eventually write a maleBruce story.

**Rachel Wayne's Point of View**

"You wanted to see me?" Dick's voice broke the stillness.

This room had been the private study of my mother when I was a girl, a place that I had once looked at with fascination and a place that I once felt pure joy in being allowed into. If I remembered those years correctly, and I would not dare pretend to remember them all that clearly - my mother had moments where the pressure of being married to Thomas Wayne got too much for her. For the most part, the room had not changed in the two and a half decades since her death - a tribute to her, from both myself and Alfred. That was why I could be found here when I needed to breathe, when I needed to reflect, and when I needed to just get out of the cave, but when I didn't want to go out and face the world. My mother still managed to bring me some comfort in the afterlife, even if she didn't know it, and at moments like this, I needed it. Moments like this were when I was sure that my entire perception of reality was crashing down around me in a great burning ruin.

Standing in the circular balustrade that held a breath taking view of the city and the bay - the balcony, and it's twin on the exact opposite side of the manor in my father's private study - were purposely put in when the manor was built. It was meant as something of a symbol, for the rulers of Gotham City to look out over their kingdom. My father took that literally, though with far more humility than the previous heads of the family - but my mother thought that it was simply one of the most beautiful views in their world and nothing more. On the seldom occasion in childhood, when my parents took the time and invited me into their private studies, they would take me out on these balconies and I had a very strange feeling.

The feeling of peace - and it was something that I had not found in my adult life.

No matter how much I tried.

As I felt Dick stand beside me, I looked back to the city with a deep look of contemplation and slid the file under my left hand across the marble top rail, without so much as even a word. There was nothing left to say on the matter.

Dick would have plenty of words for me - once he read the file.

When I analyzed the audio of the Red Hood's taunts, I was shocked - and I double checked, and triple checked the findings. Every single time, the computer would arrive at the same conclusion, and no matter how much I had tried to avoid it, the result was not something that I could avoid. I had to be sure of it myself though, and as far as I was concerned, there was only one way for me to know if the computer had suffered a biblical malfunction. It involved me going to his grave, and seeing the proof for myself. I was hoping to see the proof that the computer was wrong, and that Jason Todd was resting peacefully in his coffin - I found evidence to strongly support the idea that he wasn't, and it filled me with utter dread.

"This... this is  _impossible_ ," Dick sounded deeply stunned - as I had been when I got the results back, and at his nervous laughter, I turned and raised an eyebrow at him "You cannot possibly believe that he's alive?! You held his body in your hands!"

"I paid a visit to his gravesite four hours ago and did a little digging there," I sighed and reached up to rub at my left eye. "Check out the photo at the back of the file."

When I discovered the human sized hole above his grave, I began digging, digging with my bare hands - and that wasn't even the biggest piece of evidence that I encountered. The moment I reached the coffin itself, and examined the front cover of his coffin, the breach marks told me two things, two things that I knew Dick would see as well. The first was that the breach was caused from the inside, not the outside - meaning that the occupant of the coffin clawed his way out. The second was that the strike patterns indicated a specific type of maneuvers - ones that only a handful of people across the world knew: one of them was standing on the balcony next to me, one was in his bedroom down the hall, sleeping peacefully.

According to the computer in the cave, the other was out terrorizing Gotham.

Jason Todd was alive.

Jason Todd was the Red Hood.

And it was all my fault.

"I left him in that grave, buried under six feet of dirt, all alone," I intoned heavily, my eyes never leaving the sparkling lights that were reflecting off of Gotham Bay. "For a reason that I will be made aware of, he's returned - and he's very angry."

After another silent moment, I heard Dick shut the file with a sigh and slide it back to me - and that was his response to what was happening – that was a surprising.

I expected him to be a little more vocal about it.

"Does he know?" Dick's voice actually seemed to grow quieter than mine.

"No," I replied without preamble.

How could I have told him that? I was already aware that Jason might have had some very inappropriate feelings for me at the time, but I simply dismissed them. The accident that Dick, Jason and I suffered left us in a precarious position, and with all of problems that he had been going through in his teen years - I didn't have the heart to tell him. The only people that knew the full truth were Alfred, Dick and myself - and Jason died before I could ever work up enough courage, or before enough time could pass,before he was told the truth. That was now flushed right down the toilet, and his reappearance had forced my hand - and now I was going to be forced to tell a very angry, very large and very violent Jason Todd the full truth.

"He's also been sending threats to Tim," I broke the silence, and I was a little ashamed to realize that it was more of an afterthought. "Do you have any plans?"

I turned and watched as he shook his head. "Good - I want you to shadow Tim for a few days, both on patrol and in civilian clothing – just to keep a close eye on him."

"Jason wouldn't hurt Tim," Dick insisted and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes he would," I nodded emphatically – and bit my lower lip. "Especially in the state of mind that he is in right now. Maybe when things have settled down – and we get him back to normal he won't – but for now, I don't doubt that he'd try it."

In all of the years that I had been doing this, I had learned that my gut instinct was almost always right – and I had learned to trust it. It had saved my life, and countless others along the way. Right now, my gut was telling me that regardless if it was sooner or later – Jason would come after Timothy and we needed to protect him. No one, including myself, could have seen this coming, and it wasn't his fight.

It was mine.

"Alright," Dick answered. "I'll keep an eye on him – what will you do?"

"I'm going to go after Jason," I reached down to tie my robe closed and then picked up the from the handrail. It had been a long day, fighting the new player in Gotham's crime world, finding out that the new player was in fact a very old player, who was simply wearing a new name, and of course there was the grave robbing.

"And don't you think that you'll need help with him?" Dick expectedly insisted.

Dick had always been someone who wanted to please, even if it came at the expense of himself – even if it came at the expense of his own happiness. Ever since he stopped fighting the results of the  _accident_ – and came home to me, that had increased. There were times when it annoyed me to know end that Dick was under the impression that I was a weak willed little woman – who needed help.

He knew better than to even think that – but our new  _closeness_  blinded him to it.

Turning to watch Dick shut the doors to the balcony – I cocked my head.

"Just so he can hurt you?" I teased lightly – my face not betraying it's stoic mask.

"Your faith in me never ceases to amaze me," Dick shot me a wide grin – and I cursed this bond when it sent a wave of fluttery through my stomach. In some instances, I still hadn't quite gotten used to the fact that Dick had stopped fighting.

It was about to get far more complicated with Jason in the mix.

"I just don't want to have to sew up bullet wounds, you know how I get when people try to shoot at you," My face never once dropped the mask, but it nearly did when Dick let out of hysterical little laugh. In his final years as Robin, Dick had his fair share of encounters with bullet wounds, and I had conniptions over every single one of them. "Jason has seemed to develop a fetish for guns, knives and bombs."

"I'm not sixteen years old anymore," Dick gave me one hell of a patronizing smile as he wrapped his arm around my waist and began to pull me out of the old study.

I snorted and nodded as he turned the lights off.

* * *

I had discovered the true nature of the bond by accident.

And it was only long after Jason was murdered.

Of course, when it happened – I was aware that something had happened, but the alien experiments on us were too subtle and far too advanced for me to detect back then. At first, I was aware of the hormonal connection that the experiment had set up between Dick, Jason and I. When I tried to counter it, I was met with no success – so I braced myself for the worst and hopped that nothing bad would happen.

As much as it went against my character to do that – I had no choice.

What was I going to do? What could I do? I had to accept it.

One night, years later – Dick had shown up in the cave, soaking wet – obviously having bypassed it's defenses, which annoyed me to no end – and he had a crazed look in his eyes. When I asked him what was wrong, he didn't answer with words.

He kissed me.

And not like a friendly, or even chaste kiss – it was a full on crushing kiss.

It was only after that did I realize what the bond truly was – and when I told Dick, he left – and he didn't speak to me for some time. I still didn't know if it was due to the awkwardness of the situation – or the fact that he and I were bonded like this.

In short, the aliens that had experimented on us had given us a bond that allowed us to feel each others emotions, and prevented us from ever having the possibility of reproducing with others. In short, Dick, Jason and I were now chemically wired to never have another relationship – all romantic, and sexual hormones were shut off in the face of other people. If Dick wanted that aspect of his life to thrive, he could go to no other place to get it – he would have to come to me to fulfill it all.

And so did Jason.

"Thinking too hard again?" Dick hummed as he laid kisses down my back.

I would admit that I was not complaining about the results – but it still felt unfair.

"I'm thinking about how complicated this is going to get with Jason," I answered.

Would he mind being in a polygamous relationship with the woman that raised him and the boy that he was brought up think of as his brother? The very thought made me sigh and throw my head back down into the pillow. Things were not easy for me, at least in all aspects of my life, outside of money, and it would change, ever.

"I don't think he's going to complain much," I could practically feel Dick smirking against the small of my back and I resisted the urge to turn and glare at him. This was a serious matter, it wasn't something that one could joke about all of the time.

"What makes you say that?" I whispered back to him.

"Well, Little Wing, along with most men, are attracted to you – even without the hormones," Dick chuckled against my skin and I shivered in delight. "With the hormones though, it cranks up the effect – he won't have any problem with you."

And that brought me to my second question.

"What about with you?" This time I did turn my head in attempt to face him.

I couldn't see his face in the barely lit room, but I would wager that Dick was blushing terribly, "If that does happen – the hormones, again will solve the issue."

"Have you ever-…?" I couldn't help but ask the question.

If Jason did come into the fold eventually, they would run into this issue - I could not be in two places at once.

I stifled a smile as Dick snorted, "No – but I suppose I'll get used to it."

That was all that I could ask.


	2. Chapter One

**Rachel Wayne's Point of View**

**Three Days Later - Wayne Manor, Gotham City - 9:58 AM.**

* * *

 All of my life, Alfred had been here to guide me through these things.

I controlled, through virtue of my name alone, not only the largest private fortune in Gotham, obviously - and one of the largest in the world, but also one of the largest charitable foundations in the world as well. When my parents died, I inherited their titles, and their seats, including the family seat on the Board of Directors for Gotham General Hospital - the one we'd held for over a century.

It was utter serendipity that we were going to break ground on the Jason Todd Memorial Wing of the hospital today, the wing of the hospital that I had spent a year raising money for. Putting up half of the cost of the three hundred million dollar project, I had pressured, and campaigned ruthlessly for the other half from people that looked at Jason as nothing more than a street rat when he was here.

I thought that Jason would appreciate the irony of me forcing people that looked at him like that, being forced through the power of _my_ will alone, to open their pocket books to the project. He would have most certainly enjoyed gloating about that.

Expect he wasn't dead - and I knew that he would at least stop by the ceremony.

Smiling at Alfred as he fasted my waist belt - I grimaced.

The pain in my midsection was almost unbearable - I had to remember to avoid scheduling these events after long nights of patrol.

"I told you, I'm watching Tim, all of them," Dick reassured me as Alfred adjusted my belt tighter around my sore, bruised waist. It took all of my will power to not just tear it off and burn the damn thing. "They don't even realize that I'm here."

Somehow, I doubted that.

Tim was a bright boy, almost frighteningly bright.

As with Jason and Dick, Tim almost had a preternatural ability to know his surroundings, and what didn't come naturally to him, he got from me. He would know that Dick was trailing him and his team, and I would have to offer him an explanation eventually. Even so, Tim knew that everything I did, I did for a very good reason and he would know better than to confront Dick directly on the field.

"Just keep your distance," I said, reaching back and fastening my necklace. "If _anything_ happens, I want you to contact me at once - I don't care if I'm busy."

"You realize that if Jason is going to show himself, he's going to do it at your ceremony, which _I_ wanted to attend," Dick reminded me with a withering glance and I rolled my eyes. "You named an entire wing of a hospital after him, he's g-..."

"Blow it up?" I finished for him and Dick nodded with a snort.

"Yeah, yeah _he'll want to blow it up_ ," Dick shot back wryly.

"I'm aware of that Dick, you just keep being pretty, and I'll do the thinking for the both of us," I cast him a warm, patronizing smile, and I suppressed a real smile as Dick's face contorted into a very unhappy scowl. "Just relax, I'll be perfectly safe."

He had every single right to be worried.

But I wouldn't admit it to him - it would offer him no help to have me admit it.

In direct combat, Jason was no match for me, I knew that, Dick knew that and Jason himself knew that. The problem with Jason was that he also knew all of my moves, he knew what I knew - he knew how I operated, how we all operated.

And that made him more dangerous than anyone in the entire city.

"Just be safe," Dick's voice lowered into an almost secretive whisper.

"I will," I promised him. "And keep an eye on those kids - make sure they're safe."

Somehow, Dick was safer than I was, and that brought me _some_ comfort.

* * *

 

I peered out of the tinted windows of the limousine and took a moment to look.

Just to look at them all.

Half of them were so unbelievably greedy and _false_ that they would overlook anything just to be in my presence. They were under the impression that if they were in my orbit,  that if they were in my good graces, than they were on my level.

I tolerated them for their uses and mine.

As for the other half, they loathed me - and they loathed Jason, they loathed my family and they loathed the very air that I breathed. They tolerated my presence for the very same reason that I tolerated the other half of Gotham City's elite class.

Either way though, no matter what side, I was the reigning Queen of Gotham.

And when I turned to nod at my driver to open my door, I understood one thing.

They would come before me, they would pay tribute.

And they would bow down.

This was the biggest philanthropic project in this city in decades, everyone who ever wanted to be anyone in the next decade would flock to it. All roads led through me, and they knew that they had to pay their respects to Jason and I to get on it.

Anyone who didn't want in on it, they were metaphorical islands onto themselves.

* * *

  **Jason Todd's Point of View**

It was just like riding a bike.

Once you learned how to do it, it never really faded.

All of those years that I had spent in Rachel's care had given me the ability to perform like a circus monkey for the rich and powerful of Gotham, like Dick had.

Now, it would fit my purposes very well - and I would be able to fit in.

Sitting in the audience before the stage, I knew that that I would be able to fit in very well for at least a little while.

As Rachel gave her speech, and she scanned the crowd, she would spot me, most likely anyway, but I would be a good-boy for her at this.

Today wasn't about blowing the wing of this hospital up, which would happen.

It was about Rachel, and the fact that she had erected a monument to her nauseating guilt, that would stand the test of time if I wasn't around here to destroy it. I would destroy it, eventually - I made that promise when I heard that Rachel had named the entire wing after me, and aggressively fought for the funds.

"I think that it's distasteful that she'd name it after that rat," I peered from my phone to discreetly listen in on the conversation between the two older women in front of me. The only reason that my poisonous glare wasn't revealed was because my eyes were covered by sunglasses, they would protect me from Rachel's gaze as well.

"You know how she doted on him, how she dotes on all of those strays that she took in," My eyes darted to the one of the right, dressed in the typical fine, and rather bland, clothing of a good ole' fashioned Gotham Aristocrat. "Judith Goldstein even told me that Wayne has taken up with the oldest one, what was his name?"

I felt my heart actually stop for a split second.

There was no way in hell that the old bat had just said what I thought she said.

"Richard, I believe," The one of the left answered. "And what do you mean by-...?"

"I mean, _taken up_ ," I watched the woman nod imperceptibly to the other, as if trying to guide her in the right direction. It took me a moment to absorb the fact that she was indeed saying what she was saying, and it occurred to me at the same moment that it occurred to the other woman. "She caught them kissing on a te-..."

The woman's words seemed to fade out softly into silence as I contemplated that.

I contemplated it.

Contemplated.

And contemplated some more.

No matter how many times I seemed to contemplate it, there was no way that my brain could wrap itself around the idea that Rachel and Dick were _together_. I knew that it was foolish of me to assume that it was true, it was indeed all based on third-hand information that was stumbled upon by accident - and utter serendipity.

But somehow, I knew it was happening.

Dick always trailed after her like a lost puppy, even after he was a grown man.

And Dick was always so engrained in Rachel's mind that he was the constant standard bearer for every she considered to be perfection. Because of their bond, all of the people that would hold the mantle of Robin in the future would be held up to his standard.

If they didn't get near that standard, meet it, or get above it, they weren't worthy to be Robin, they weren't worthy to wear the tights that Dick had created.

Still, with their bond in mind, with the fact that they were the original Batwoman and Robin, with the fact that they were so close - the mental image enraged me.

It should have sickened me.

It should have made me want to ruin her life.

But it just made me angry, angry and fucking jealous.

And I couldn't figure out why.

She, by all rights, shouldn't be in my mind like that.

But she was, and _somehow_ , the image of Dick shoving his tongue down her throat made me want her more. Want her, want to take her and have her, just so Dick couldn't.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we're about to start," I glanced up to the stage as the event coordinator came up to the microphone and tried to get everyone ready.

My upper lip curled in a sneer.

Rachel would answer for this - after I laid waste to everything around me.

* * *

  **Rachel Wayne's Point of View**

"I want to thank the Board of Directors for letting me go all out on this groundbreaking ceremony," I offered the crowd a patently false titer of laughter. "It means the world to me that they, as well as most of you in this crowd, by your _generous_ donations, allowed me to name this new wing after the late Jason Todd."

I paused for a moment to let them give their obligatory applause.

It was hard to control my nausea, but I had to do this - it was expected of me.

"Jason, who was so very important to me, would have been so, indescribably honored by this, he wouldn't have had any words for it," I paused slightly for a slight quiver in my voice. It was mainly to cover up the laughter in my voice.

The entire statement was true - but not in the context that they understood.

Jason would have been smug about it.

He wouldn't have had any words to describe how smug and happy he would have been at the fact that I brought the rich and powerful of Gotham City to heel, just for him. Well, he would have - back when I knew him, back when he was my Robin.

Not after he returned from the dead.

And certainly not as this Red Hood character.

"As many of you remember, Jason was a person of deep conviction, he believed that those who cannot help themselves needed to be...," I stopped mid-sentence as my eyes met the form of a man sitting in the back row of the far right side of the seating area.

More specifically, I stopped in mid-sentence at the sight of a flash of white amongst a head of pure black hair. To any random individual, that particular feature on a total stranger was nothing that would catch their eye. With billions of people in the world, it was only expected that there would be people out there with odd hair.

Except, I once teased Jason about that same feature in his hair.

It made him look like a skunk.

And this man had it in his hair.

"...helped by those who had the means to do so," I looked down to my speech and swallowed slightly. "When it is completed, the _Jason Todd Cardiac Care Unit_ will be the most state of the art cardiac care unit in the United States, and one the top five in the world. It will become a beacon of hope for the hopeless, like Jason wanted."

"It will continue on through generous donations from Wayne Family Foundation, as well as from its fine patrons."  

With those words, I looked eyes with the man, and narrowed them slightly.

"And in the spirit of Jason Todd, I officially can pronounce the construction of this wing open," I smiled at them and turned the board members of the hospital. "I would like to invite Chairman Shepherd and Doctor Hayes to cut the red ribbon."

If Jason was going to do something, it would be now.

There would be no way that the intense security measures that we had around the ceremony would be able to stop him if he wanted to do it. The layers of sharpshooters, and armed guards would not be a match for a fully trained Robin, not to mention the Red Hood. If he wanted to do it, he could, and I couldn't stop it.

* * *

  **Jason Todd's Point of View**

"Ms. Wayne," I approached Rachel's back, sipping lightly on the champagne that had been provided. "Ms. Wayne, I'd like to take a moment to congratulate you on this achievement. I hear that the hospital has been looking for funding for years."

When she turned to face me, and her hair flourished in waves around her shoulders.

It was as if I was fourteen years old again, with a raging crush on her.

A crush that I was fully aware of, and yet, ashamed of all at the same time.

I bit back a smirk as I watched her face contort with many emotions.

I had not lived to see many moments where I could render Batwoman herself speechless - much less when she was parading around in her ditzy alter-ego, but I _lived_ for them. The fact that I had knocked her so far off balance that she had been rendered speechless in even this guise, it would provide me with endless humor.

"I do what I can, _Mister_...?" She broke out of her reverie and smiled brightly.

"Detective Peter Miles," I gave the alias to her and her smile was all teeth as I extended my hand to her. When she shook it back, her grip was not the dainty, light, false grip that I was sure that she forced upon everyone else in the room.

It was a hard, unyielding handshake, one that belonged into the Batwoman armor.

It was also full of warning.

"Well Detective, I can assure you that it's my pleasure to spearhead this project, Jason was very important to me," I gave her a smile and nodded - because, without blowing the whole charade, it was all that I could do. "What force do you work for?"

"Gotham, recent hire," I replied.

Except I forgot that she was Rachel Wanye, and all of the substantial power in the city was concentrated in her dainty little hands. Political, social, philanthropic, she was at the top of the food chain and all she had to do was snap her fingers to make it happen. If she was vindictive about this, I could really say goodbye to this alias.

"Ah," She nodded and I smiled slightly as she assumed her imperious stance. It was the stance that she assumed when she wanted to intimidate her enemies, and yet appear as the altruistic woman that she wanted people to think that she was. "I'll be sure to inform my good friend, Commissioner Gordon, that he has a new star."

I cursed her in my mind and I sent a covert glare at her as I saw her lip twitch.

* * *

  **Rachel's Point of View**

"Very interesting disguise, _Detective_ ," I drawled slightly as I approached his back.

The ceremony was now drawing down, and all of the attention was now going to be directed to the Zeist Ballroom Downtown, where the gala would take place. This ceremony had been small and private, but the gala, the gala would be big, it would be glitzy and it would be the PR side of this expansion. Every single moment of my evening was planned, my dress hand designed in Europe, the reporters _handpicked_.

"You know me, I can't stray from the classics," Jason turned to me and smirked, before turning back to watch the crew pack up the seats and stage. "What about you? Is it me, or have you become more expressive? Did you have a sab _bat_ ical?

"Leave the stupid puns to Dick, you've never been really good at them," I dismissed his jab and folded my arms over my chest. "I want to know how you managed to get an invitation to this ceremony, it was only available to six figure donors to t-..."

I stopped short.

And in the wake of silence, Jason's smirk widened.

"The damn place has my name on it, did you think that I wouldn't notice? That I wouldn't want to donate towards it? For shame Rachel, you're losing your edge," He cocked his head tauntingly and I narrowed my eyes. "I donated it as Detective Miles, I also got an invitation to the big party."

I stepped closer and bared my teeth at him, "If you disrupt that-..."

"What are you going to do? Ground me?" He taunted right back and somehow, I managed to narrow my eyes even further. "Relax boss, I don't plan on spoiling your night. I'm going to show up, black tie and all. I promise you that I'm going to be a good little monkey for these walking fossils."

"I'll have your ass if you cause a scene," I growled at him.

"I'm going to have your ass _either_ way, see you tonight boss." He grinned and I blinked slightly and flushed when his grin widened.

Without another word, he turned and swaggered away.

It was a vague, empty comment.

But it made my body ache, and it made the bond positively _sing_.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

**Rachel Wayne's Point of View**

**Wayne Manor - Gotham City - 7:48 PM**

* * *

The sautoir necklace was worth at least eight figures.

In fact, if the original appraisal value of the necklace was still correct, it was worth more money than ten average people would accumulate over the span of their entire lives. That had been when my mother had first acquired it on her honeymoon with my father decades ago in Italy, that had been where her jewelry collection had really begun.

With the near tripling of the value of precious metals and jewels since then, its weight in platinum, and the diamond and sapphire trim on the necklace band – along with the 53.5 carat sapphire mounted on the pendant, it might be pushing nine figures in its worth. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, elegant, and it had fit my mother very well.

Though I had inherited my mother's love for jewelry, at least somewhat, I did think that the piece was ostentatious. I felt that it was something that only needed to be worn when one needed to make a statement – when one wanted to make others obey.

In the cut and thrust world of Gotham Society, I needed to use everything at my disposal to make sure that people knew that I was in charge. They needed to understand that their pathetic illusions were there because I had use for them there. I knew that the piece, which was worth more than most of their McMansions, would do it.

Like the stone foundations of the Manor, I'd be here long after they were gone.

"We're going to be late." Dick hummed as he marched into foyer.

Dick was dressed in a form fitting Armani tuxedo, his hair was slicked back, and I knew that every single person in that room that wasn't jealous of him, would be jealous of me. Dick's appearance, along with his looks, was just as much a part of the _image_. In the spot light, in the midst of the fact that we looked like twenty million bucks, they'd be far too distracted to gossip about our odd relationship, like the toxic rodents they were.

"It doesn't start until we get there," I answered back. "Are the grounds secure?"

"The perimeter alarms are functioning perfectly, if anything attempts to breach the grounds, you wouldn't be able to blast your way in," Dick hummed and folded his arms across his chest. "Alfred and Tim don't plan on leaving, so it's just you and me."

If the authorization code that only Dick and I had possessed wasn't entered at the gate, the manor would be locked down until we could get back here. It had been a precaution that I had installed years ago, but luckily, I had never put the system to use.

By that same token, the list of wrong-doers that had an inkling that my alter-ego and I were even mild related, could be counted on one hand. The list of those same wrong-doers that could potentially penetrate the defenses around the manor wasn't so much as a list, as it was a single name. It was the one name that could bridge the divide between Rachel Wayne and Batwoman, and put everything that I held dear at most risk.

"Any word if Jason is actually there yet?" I turned and arched an eyebrow.

Dick shook his head, "I called and asked, not yet."

"The security around ballroom?" I readjusted the necklace.

At of the corner of my vision, I could practically feel Dick rolling his eyes, "Tight."

Nothing was going to happen, that was the conventional wisdom at any rate – but I had learned a very long time ago to never take things at face value. It would be presumptuous to assume that Jason would simply allow a ball, thrown in his honor, to go unimpeded. If his physiological assessment was true, he simply was too unbalanced.

He needed help, he needed care.

Then, and only then, would I lower my guard – if only for a fraction of a second.

"Well then," I sighed and looked myself over in the mirror. "How do I look?"

* * *

**Dick Grayson's Point of View**

It was magnificent.

Not tasteless, but extravagant – it wasn't gauche, but it made a statement.

The statement only went to reaffirm that vast power of the Gotham elite, that if one had enough money, imperial grandeur was a mere flick of the wrist away. It was disgusting, in the way that it was the contradiction between the point of the celebration, and the celebration itself. The fact of that matter was that not everyone would benefit from the Jason Todd wing of the hospital, and even fewer would have a chance at it.

In short, this celebration was the rich celebrating the rich – as usual.

That was the story of this socioeconomic end of the populous of Gotham.

It was the order of the things in Gotham, I had known that since I was a child – and I knew that I would never, ever be able to change it. I had learned that the hard way, in both respects, and since then, I had no desire to be amongst these people.

If they could be called _people_ – and not caricatures.

Except, I knew that it was something that Rachel had to do, it was necessary to her as breathing was. She was the head of the largest financial empire on the entire planet, she was the Queen, and she had to keep her nobles in line, or they _would_ rebel.

She was the _truly_ magnificent sight in the room.

Her couture gown, her shoes, her hair – the sapphire the size of a small apple nestled between her breasts. The cliched analogies of what she truly looked like did her no justice, because she did indeed look like the most valuable thing the entire ballroom.

That was saying a lot, when one was surrounded by these people.

"There are the Brooks," Rachel whispered in my ear as she sent them a false smile and convincing wave. "Patricia, from what I hear, is sleeping with the house keeper, the _female_ housekeeper, and Jack is up to his neck in debt to the Black Mask."

I raised an eyebrow, "Drugs?"

"He made some bad investments," She replied softly and turned away from her subjects. "And in this world, you've got to keep up the image, and Roman has the cash."

That was another reason why she made sure to keep this aspect of her life up, because it did prove useful in some respects. More often the not, the rich and powerful of Gotham City had just as much of a connection to the seedy underground as the poor and disadvantaged. Sometimes, for Batwoman, it made sense to keep enemies close, rather than having to scour the planet for other leads to follow and chase down.

"And why would you go out of your way to make nice with them?" I hummed and slipped and arm around her waist before joining her in sending the crowd a bright smile.

When it came to this aspect of life, Rachel never made a move that wasn't calculated from at least three steps before hand. Someone had to do that if they were going to do what she did for how long she did it – that was the nature of Batwoman.

"You'll notice how their son isn't here?" She whispered.

Dick had indeed noticed that – and that was odd.

These sort of events, they tended to be affairs for everyone in a family, it was against how Gotham Society had developed. It was some sort of perverse rearing act, for the family to groom the children to one day take their place in this disgusting circus.

"When I learned of the identity of the new player, I added the Brooks to the guest list, at the last moment, and I made sure to do it personally," I grinned down at her a she leaned up to kiss me on the cheek for the photographraphy line. "Mr. Brooks holds the largest amount of debt to Roman than anyone else in Gotham – and with our new _player's_ motives abundantly clear, I felt it prudent to put the two together and watch."

All with Mason Brooks asleep at home.

It was masterfully done.

Turning away, I leaned closer, "Jason is going to try and kill him?"

"Or kidnap him," She replied. "Jack Brooks owes Roman at least nine figures."

And if Rachel's logic was to be followed, Roman was funding the Brooks Holding Company, and if Jack Brooks wasn't alive to pay his debt, the Black Mask was out to the tune of a hundred of million of dollars, or more, – doing damage to his operation.

If Jason was truly interested in taking Roman down – Brooks would be tempting.

Probably irresistible

Rachel's eyes were calm to those who didn't know her, but there was a twinkle in them that bespoke of a sort of dark humor. I knew that she would never let Jason really kill Jack and Patricia Brooks – but she would use them to her advantage if she needed.

"Bait," I spoke.

"An insurance policy," She wore her best, overly-charming smile.

I felt her tap her fingers against my back, "One that I knew would pay off."

Turning my head back to follow her prodding, I laid my eyes on the man directly in front of his, chatting amicably with an older hospital donor. Although I knew who he was immediately, I was just struck by just how much Jason could blend in with them.

There was that dyed hair, and that white streak.

He looked almost exactly as he did the last time I saw him, expect he was a lot bulkier, bigger – and he carried himself as if he knew it too, he bore a unique smugness.

It was Jason – but it also wasn't.

It was an actor, it was a mask.

Masks where what we all about – no one did masks better than we did.

* * *

**Jason Todd's Point of View**

The Queen.

Ms. Wayne.

Rachel – Batwoman, Bats, Boss – _whatever_ you wanted to call her.

That woman knew how to make an entrance, and she very much aware of that fact. She wore her wealth and status as a cloak, her last name as her scepter and crown and Dick as a symbol of her superiority. The stone that she wore, alone, was as valuable as an apartment building, and the homes of most of the people in this room.

"Ms. Wayne," I nodded at her – and I wasn't even bothering to hide my smirk as I looked him up and down, rubbing my new height advantage in his face. "Mr. Grayson."

Dick put one hand in the pocket of his suit, "You're an idiot."

"And you're a tool," I shot back.

"Takes one to know one," Dick scowled.

"Be careful Dickie," I walked forward, and took a sip of my glass. "Don't scowl too much, you'll get wrinkles – and you don't want to ruin that pretty face of yours, do you?"

It took every ounce of my willpower to suppress the shivers going through me.

I wasn't sure why that was happening, but I wouldn't dare explore it right now.

"This is a very important night," Rachel broke in and whispered. "Don't ruin it."

That pesky shiver did not subside, and I wouldn't be lying if I said that her proximity nearly broke my resolve to keep it under wraps. I knew myself well enough to know that the two were having an effect on me, but I was quite sure if it was on real. I wondered if it was because of my proximity to the both of them for the first-time years.

I shot her a smile, "I'm the guest of honor."

I was very carefully keeping my eyes trained off the Brooks in the background.

* * *

**Rachel Wayne's Point of View**

When I discovered the nature of the bond, I attempted to find a way to sever it.

There was none.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Any attempt to break the neural and chemical bond between the three of us would result in our deaths. That was a risk not worth taking, and I simply resigned myself to the fact that this was going to happen – and Jason and Dick would have to deal with it too. Even if Jason was unaware of it – I could see that death couldn't stop it any more than I could, he was still under effect of the bond, he was feeling that pull.

Not even death could stop it – if truly had died that is.

"If you'll excuse me boss," He stepped closer to me and breathed into my ear. "I have someone I need to see – and fortunately for you and Dick-head here, it's not you."

It was only after Jason had left that I left myself reflect on him.

I finally allowed my mind to dwell on the fact that it was not that past and that Jason Todd was grown now. The question of whether his psychological growth was on par with his physical one remained to be seen – but he was no longer a lanky teenager.

Turning my head and keeping my eyes on him, I could practically see our connection. It was a throbbing, _pulsing_ need that his mere presence had exacerbated and from the feel of it, I wasn't the only one that had been effect by his proximity.

Dick's arm tightened around my waist.

"I think we need to excuse ourselves," He whispered in my ear.

I felt that tightening in my gut – it was familiar, yes.

My control over the bond was usually impeccable – usually yes.

But I was overwhelmed, I was utterly overwhelmed by Jason – it was like every aphrodisiac and drug I ever been subjected to, like every magnetic that I had ever felt.

Frustration welled up inside of me, anger at Jason's insolence – anger at myself for being the cause of a lot of it. The Brooks would not be here and I wouldn't have to make the choice between making sure Jason didn't kidnap them or kill them, and Dick.

This bond, this influence, it was pulling my judgement in two – and my fear was only surpassed by the lust spiking through me. That was what was driving me in two, the lust generated by both men and myself – not to mention my own real, _natural_ lust.

There were some things that I couldn't even fight – and with the flood of hormones into my brain, even I found that I couldn't fight it – I wouldn't fight it at all.

It was going to make me go with him.

Dick's gripped my wrist, and pulled me away.

* * *

Trusting these feelings had taken quite a bit of work for me.

When we were first afflicted with the bond, and I still wasn't quite sure if that was the word to describe it, I kept my thoughts focused. Hormones in the brain could be manipulated into any shape or form that was desired. If one applied the right pressure, at the right point, and the precise junction, you could break someone. I figured that the same applied to the situation that Dick, Jason and I had found ourselves in. At first, I was very content to dismiss them, they were merely genetically manipulated hormones.

Just hormones.

My will had given me the strength to do everything that I had ever wanted to do with my life, and I had anticipated that it would have been able to do the same for me here. Mind you that this was before I had discovered the fatality of severing the bond, but I was sure that if I waited it out – if I kept hunting for a solution, I'd be able to do it.

It did not take me long to discover that there was something underlying about this chemical bond. While I hadn't bore a physical attraction to Jason, he was still very young when the incident occurred, I had harbored one for Dick. Without the machinations of our captors, it would have been something that I could have easily controlled. I wasn't an animal, and I had a sense of right and wrong to hold me back.

It was later that I realized that our captors had played on that long buried physical attraction that I had to Dick, had exacerbated it, and used it to bond us together. I never told him, and I wasn't sure if I was ever going to tell him – of all the things that I knew bound us together, I didn't want to face the idea that it was me that forced us together.

I groaned into his mouth as his hands drifted up my thigh.

There was a small part of me that was shameful over the fact that I had practically raised him. I took everything that I had to suppress that feeling daily and proceed, it was all that I could do to proceed, the only alternative meant pain, or death.

"I need him," Dick whispered against my mouth as we broke apart.

I resisted the urge to smirk, despite everything, "I guess we have our answer."

I knew exactly what was he was referring to, it had gone through my mind as well. Jason's size had trigged nothing short but a torrent of lust to surge through our bond, and it made me want to be _dominated_ by him. I had never been one to give up any measure of control, which extended to sex, but I had felt the need to, very clearly.

I had wanted Jason to pin me down, tie me up and utterly _use_ me.

That was not good.

The _rocking_ of the private atrium that Dick and I had found ourselves in was also not good. Considering the airtight security around the event, I knew that the list of possibilities, excluding natural disasters, was not good. Judging from the intensity of the explosion, I would be willing to bet that it was caused by some well-placed explosives.

Dick's eyes widened, "The Brooks."

"This place was swept from top to bottom, and they didn't find any explosives," I commented lightly as I considered what to do next. "He must have someone inside."

"Or he knows you," Dick responded.

Pushing him back, I looked to my right and to my left, and then back at him, "You go back in there and stall, the explosion should be enough to distract the other guests."

I didn't like the idea of sending Dick against Jason without some manner of protection, but I had no choice. I had been so short sighted in my attempt to lure Jason out that I had walked around into his hands, blindfolded. No matter how much of a scum-bag Jack Brooks was, I wasn't about to let him be killed for being a pawn.

"Stall them," I repeated my order.

Dick scowled at me, but turned on his heels and took off in a run.

Keeping my eyes on the exact spot that Dick had been only moments before, I brought my left hand up and turned the diamond affixed to the ring that I wore on my index finger. The ring was real, the diamond, and the gold band, but it hid the only conventional way that I could summon the Batmobile and my armor on short notice.

This was a disaster of my own making.


End file.
